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Prologue

BLAKE

T he green and blue hues of the neon overhead lights blinded me as I dragged myself toward the packed dance floor. My left eye twitched in frustration watching the droplets of cherry vodka spill on my suit as I pushed through a sea of drunk college students letting loose. Then I spotted my girlfriend— definitely too loose . She was dancing freely, her body vividly missing the rhythm of the beat, her red hair matching the rosy crimson splayed across her cheeks. She didn’t see me watching her.

I grimaced at her lack of self-awareness. I abhorred going to clubs like this; trendy music with exhausted remixes pounding against one’s eardrums, too many people, and not enough introspectiveness between any of them.

I finally reached her, amidst the center of the chaos. I grabbed her arm and handed over the drink. She yelped, then looked up at me. Her smile was immediate and bright. She took a sip before wrapping her arms around me and dragging me forward. Some more cherry vodka spilled on my suit.

“Can’t believe we finally finished! God, it was exhausting!” she laughed, clutching onto me. “We did it, babe!”

“Obviously,” I responded, wrapping my arms around her and kissing the top of her forehead, breathing in her pinewood scent.

Next: my own private practice.

She was wearing a tight green dress, leaving little to the imagination. Knowing her, she had on her matching pink lingerie set with the ribbons underneath.

She bit her bottom lip as her smile widened. She wrapped her red-stained lips around the straw of the drink and gave me a heated glance.

“Mmh, that means we can actually take our time now, you know? Instead of quickies.” She played with my tie, kissing my jaw, her lips staining the collar of my crisp shirt.

I didn’t like PDA, but I was feeling particularly horny that day. I needed her in my bed now.

I grabbed her chin. “Look at me.” Her eyes fluttered open. “How about we head back to my place?” She grinned up at me, blushing like a virgin—which she definitely wasn’t.

“I don’t know…” she teased. “What if I say no?” She sipped her drink, peering up at me with those innocent green eyes.

I loved when she acted like this: naive. It sent a sick thrill through me. I leaned down and pecked her cheek. “I’ll make you.” She smiled and then pounced eagerly, game forgotten, kissing me ferociously, her body becoming pliant against me. I attempted not to grimace at the tender kisses.

This was the part that killed me, she never put up a fight afterward. She’d tease, but then she’d cut it short, leaving me more frustrated than before. Her body was willing as my hands squeezed her ass, and I should have been enjoying it. Despite the lack of heat, she had her tight body pressed against me, practically begging for me to take her as rough as I wanted. To have my way with her however I wanted.

So… why did I feel so bored?

Then I saw him.

His eyes were chocolate brown, deep with allure and innocence. They were wide, framing his delicate features. He glanced at me briefly from atop the second floor of the club, but I could taste the need to sedate him. For the split second our eyes met, it felt like he was a deer standing face to face with a hunter.

Bambi.

My girlfriend brought her hand underneath my shirt, grazing my abs.

“Let’s go home. I’ll let you do whatever you want,” she murmured against my lips.

I could hear her, but my eyes wouldn’t stop drifting toward the man. The hue of the lights reflected off his silky skin, pale as moonlight, making his dark eyes stand out more. He was no longer looking at me, just sipping his drink.

Look at me, Bambi.

He did, as if he could read my mind.

His doe eyes were big and unassuming as he peered me down, making something dark coil in my gut. He was waiting for me to follow.

He turned away.

I didn’t hesitate. I followed.

I pried my girlfriend off. “I’ll be right back. Restroom.” Her tone was baffled, but I couldn’t hear her exact words since I was speeding to the top floor.

The top floor was more or less the same as the bottom—drunks everywhere—only the lighting up here was nonexistent, probably so people could get up to more debauchery without anyone seeing them.

Where had he gone?

I wandered for a while. Almost everyone looked the same due to the dark lighting.

I knew I had been gone long enough to have probably pissed off my girlfriend by now, but I just had to find him.

I almost gave up when I made it to the bathroom. I checked my phone, and my girlfriend was blowing it up.

Where are you?

Call me.

Kaleb? Are you serious?

Asshole, where did you go?

I’m worried. Are you okay?

I responded that I got lost, which was the most obvious lie. I was far from incompetent.

That was when someone bumped into me.

He didn’t apologize, so I turned, ready to take my frustration out on them.

There he was. In all his glory. Wide dark eyes staring at me like I was an insect. He barely spared me a glance, typing away with a wry smile on his phone. He briefly looked up.

“Move, you're hogging the mirror.” He bumped me with his hips and took a bathroom selfie. Multiple, actually.

It was clear he thrived off attention and was going to post those to appear more artsy than he actually was.

“Full of yourself much?” I murmured.

He turned, looking like he’d love nothing more than to put up a fight.

“Obviously?” He rolled his eyes.

He turned to leave the bathroom, but I grabbed his arm. He turned with a vicious look up and down. The bathroom was dim. I could barely make out his facial features.

“What?” he demanded, pushing my arm slightly away.

His voice wasn’t fear or arousal.

It was detachment. And I didn’t like that.

I had never felt this before, but it felt like I had glue in my throat. I coughed and froze.

Fuck, I wasn’t like this. I was usually very good at communicating my feelings.

Damnit, say something, Blake.

The longer we stood there, the more the energy seemed to shift into his power.

Like I was the one off my game. Just being in his line of sight was making me feel nervous.

I didn’t feel nervous.

Ever.

Not in my adolescent years, not through university or the doctoral program— why now ?

He gave me a predatory grin, as if sensing that he was the one winning.

I could tell by the change in his stance: from defensive to offensive. He stood a little straighter. He knew he was dominating me in terms of sheer presence.

He then eyed me up and down again, but this time with clear interest.

“You're hot,” he licked his lips. “Tall too.” He looked younger than me but was talking about me like I was cattle he was contemplating buying.

Assessing me.

“Unfortunately, not my type. I like men who take charge and you…” He gave me an innocent smile, pure taunt. “Well, I’d just walk all over you.”

Then he walked away, a faint look back.

A test.

He was trying to coax me. I knew that logically. He was baiting me to follow and redeem myself in the power play he had annihilated me in, but my feet felt rooted to those tiles.

He didn’t turn back again.

I had failed his test.